Cuffed in the Wrong Situation
by simbarel
Summary: Fargo's Carl in a mishap with Dirty Dancing's Baby


A small-town policeman pulls over a car devoid of its liscense plates. The driver, Carl is  
  
kinda funny looking and  
  
coincidentally has a female hostage in his back seat. The policeman  
  
asks for the driver's liscense and registration. Nervous and polite, Carl offers his wallet--peeking out are  
  
his liscence, and a fifty-dollar bill.  
  
"... I was gonna tape up the temporary tag, ya know, to be in full compliance, but it, uh, it, uh ... must a slipped my mind... ... So maybe the best thing would be to take care of that, right here...in the Catskills."  
  
The policeman is insulted by Carl's bribe. "Step out of the car, please," he officiates. As Carl stepped out of the car, the female hostage recognized her opportunity to make herself known to the police. She wriggles from beneath the rope that binds her wrists and ankles, and screams from under the burlap sack around her head.  
  
"What do we have here?" the officer asks in his calm, deliberate manner.  
  
Carl knows he has to sweat out an answer. "Oh, that's my associate, Officer" he jutters. "We're working on a magic act together, and she's rehearsing for a show we have at the Sheldrake. Yeah." Carl suffers a greasy, weasly twitch and contemplates fleeing the scene, but a look-around proves he has little place to hide, and cannot outrun the cruiser. The Officer lays a dead stare into Carl's eyes, which sets Carl still for a moment.  
  
"Miss," the officer says into the window of Carl's car. "is this true? Are you a performer in this gentleman's magic act?"  
  
"NO-O-O-o-o!" she shrills underneath the burlap. "No, no, no, Officer! Officer, please help me!" The officer motions to open the back door to let the unwilling passenger out, but instead turns around to cuff Carl to prevent more foul play.  
  
"I'm trying to be in compliance--" Carl mutters.  
  
"Shut up," says the cop. He turns back around to open the car door and helps lift the small bundled body. As he lifts the moist sack a bundle of ginger-tinted curly hair puffs out. The officer stands across from a girl of 18. "Your name please," he asks her.  
  
"It's Baby," she says  
  
"Baby? Not your stage name, Miss, your Christian name."  
  
Exasperated, the girl exhales. "I don't have a stage name. I'm not in a show with this guy! Look at me!" she shouts as she wrestles with the rope around her limbs. "He is my kidnapper!"  
  
The officer turns around to look into Carl's eyes, as if to say "Is this true?" Carl can't hide his guilty eyes. He simply shrugs. The cop turns back to the girl.  
  
"The law prohibits me to help you, Miss, until you provide me your name," he says.  
  
"It does?" Carl interrupts. The officer ignores him.  
  
"Fine," the girl halts. "It's Frances."  
  
"Fran-ces...." the officer pries.  
  
"Frances Houseman."  
  
"Say," the officer says. "Aren't you the girl who exposed the Schumachers? You know...the little old couple who were...what were they doing?"  
  
"They were stealing wallets."  
  
"Yeah, that's right..." the officer reminisced the events. "Yeah, your father was the doctor, and you were doin' it with the dance guy, right?"  
  
"His name is Johnny," Baby says through an exhale. "And we weren't 'doin' it.'"  
  
The officer chuckles, "Well, that's not what Bobby at the Sheldrake was saying." Another snicker.  
  
Recognition finally hits Carl as he chimes in. "Whoa, girl...that was you?" he snickers in awe. "Your sister...she's a Jew broad, right? Big boobs, big nose, sings like a hippo in a tutu?" Baby crosses her arms as much as she can with her wrists tied behind her back, and begins tapping her toes on top of each other. "Bobby always said that he went for the wrong sister."  
  
Baby jerks her head to confront the officer. "Isn't there something more important here?" she asks crossly as she nudges her glances between the kidnapper and her homemade cuffs.  
  
"Ah, yes" the officer says as he stiffens himself back up and glances at his notepad. "Did you kidnap this young lady, sir?"  
  
Another shrug.  
  
"Why did you kidnap this young lady?"  
  
"You see...I know this guy Shep Proudfoot and he has this penchant for kicking my naked ass--"  
  
"No nudity, please, Sir," the officer says stiffly.  
  
"Oh, yes. Pardon me, Officer. I'll mind my manners. I've been know to mind my--"  
  
"The story please, Sir"  
  
"Well, Shep, see, confronted me and my partner...uh...not this magic partner," he says as he motions towards Baby. Baby rolls her eyes. "...but my blond, silent partner and told us about this Jerry who needed this girl kidnapped for a loot of $40,000. The tan Ciera is a down payment." Carl looks at his shoes and knits his brow, "Only now I'm a little confused because the woman I was supposed kidnap...her name was Jean. This one is only a Baby. He looks back up at the girl and smiles guility. Again. Carl's thin, greasy smile transforms from nervous grin, down to frown. The officer turns from Baby to Carl. The three stand in a triangle, facing each other...two of the circle's members constricted with cuffs. The officer recites. "You have the right to remain silent..." 


End file.
